


The Matriarch: The Zabini Family Origins

by MalfoysBlackWife



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Haitian!Characters, Harry Potter - Freeform, Hogwarts, POC represenation, Zabini origins, african magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28686195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalfoysBlackWife/pseuds/MalfoysBlackWife
Summary: This is the untold story of Blaise Zabini's mother.Who she was before her husbands and her family originsThis will go up until Blaise's story.MULTI CHAPTER FICTW: Talks of slavery, slight racism.
Relationships: Ms. Zabini/husband, TBD - Relationship
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	The Matriarch: The Zabini Family Origins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [To every POC who has felt left out by the lack of representation in Harry Potter.](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=To+every+POC+who+has+felt+left+out+by+the+lack+of+representation+in+Harry+Potter.).



_February 27 th, 1956. _

_London, England._

“She is beautiful, _bèl fi mwen an._ ” Esther Zabini smiled down upon the small baby girl in front of her. She ghosted a finger over her baby’s chubby cheeks and laughed when the sleeping newborn smiled at her. Her husband, James Zabini smiled at his wife, pressing a kiss to her cheek and a small one unto his daughter’s forehead.

Even the midwives noted at how beautiful the baby was, something that would surely cause her father trouble. Esther Zabini had met her husband, James, by chance. They both had been promised to another to continue the line of powerful Black witches and wizards within their families.

However, when they took one look at each other, they knew it was love. Esther had a gift in predicting the future by looking into another’s eyes, which she saw herself marrying the man that was in front of her. A gift that had came directly from her ancestors, which had helped them escape the hands of the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade.

A few tribes sent their most powerful witches and wizards in secret over to where the boats carried their stolen people, seeking revenge. Esther’s and James’ ancestors had come to the island of Haiti to return enslaved Africans back to their home countries. Word had begun to spread of a possible plague in Haiti. One that left slave-owners dead and their ‘property’ had vanished.

Esther and James married in secret and fled to London, seeking to escape their disapproving parents and to start a family. The decision wasn’t an easy one, they were leaving behind their family and the only place they truly could call ‘Home’. But, after having their daughter, they knew they made the right decision.

They were still a wealthy family, moving away from the city and into the countryside. Their home was filled with laugher and the sounds of small feet running. They welcomed another daughter, Roseline Zabini, only 4 years after they had their first child. Their parents would speak to them in their native tongue, mixing in English whenever necessary. They seemed like a perfectly normal Haitian-British family.

But then it all changed.

Their eldest daughter had begun to exhibit signs of being a witch, Roseline following closely behind her. Esther had been folding clothes when she heard her daughters’ laughter, smiling softly at the sound. She had crept into their room and gasped.

Roseline was laughing along as her older sister told her the story of Yemoja, manipulating water that had came from a cup to flow above their heads. Roseline tried to mimic her sister, only being able to pull a single drop from the cup to hover for a second before dropping back into the cup. Their parents read them stories of the different Yoruba Gods and Goddesses, teaching them of their Nigerian ancestry.

Their parents had always ensured that their children would know of their culture, something that no one could take from them.

That night, her parents sat their beloved daughter down and told her what she was. She stared up at them in confusion, not believing that other children were not like her.

“Cheri, you are not like the other children. You are a witch.” James looked his daughter in her eyes, holding her in his arms as he rocked her back and forth. Her mother stroked her hair, kissing the top of her head.

“B-but, isn’t that bad?”

James looked at his daughter in disbelief and shook his head, he knew that sending her to a traditional English school. They had taught them about how The Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade was not as bad as it seemed, even demonized African and Afro-Caribbean practices and traditions.

“They demonize anything they don’t understand, _Lanmou_.” James said and swept his thumb over his daughter’s cheek.

“There is nothing wrong with who we are. Who _you_ are.” Esther added.

“You come from a long line of powerful African Witches and Wizards. You are their wildest dream. Do not disappoint them.”

Their daughter only nodded; her head held higher as she looked in between them.

“I will not disappoint them.”

_3 Years Later…_

The letter had come from a white owl, the parchment hanging from its beak. It was during family dinner when her parents finally opened it.

The house was filmed with the aroma from the spices of Griot that her mother was making as she assisted her father with assembling the ingredients for Pikliz. He cut up the vegetables as she placed them in the jar to be pickled. The owl had flown in and landed right in the middle of the table, thoroughly pissing off her Haitian mother. The poor owl had narrowly escaped before being chased away by her mother with a machete.

“Hogwarts? School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?” Her father read aloud; his eyebrow raised as he handed the letter to his wife.

They both had stopped trusting the European education system after their run-ins with teacher’s not telling the whole truth about historical events. Her father scoffed at the acceptance letter and went to toss it into the waste basket before Roseline spoke.

“Papa, no.” Her small voice called out. “Sè will be happy. M-Malfoy? Kingsley? Snake.” Roseline said, her eyes staring blankly into space as she saw her older sister’s future. Her magical abilities had manifested quicker than her older sisters, she could see into the future with deadly accuracy. Seeing people, names, and things that will lead to great influence in a person’s life. But then, the ancestors began to talk to her through her predictions, warning her of dangers that could be lurking.

“Roseline? What happened, _Cheri_?” Your mother asked her, rushing over to her side to pull her from her vision. “ _Manman, Sè_ is strong.” She gasped, her eyes drifted back into her reality, her small body falling limp against the chair.

Your parents looked at each other and swallowed, they had already come to an agreement in their head. If this is what the ancestors wanted, so be it.

She will be going.

The house bustled with liveliness; the hours were winding down until she would leave for Hogwarts. The family had dressed in their best cultural wear, it was something her mother had insisted upon.

“ _Show them who you are.”_

Her sister was clinging onto her as she packed, making her break away to give her multiple hugs before she resumed helping her sister pack. Even packing her favorite stuffed bear into her older sister’s suitcase while she had her back turned.

“Don’t forget about me, _Sè_.”

After finding where Platform 9 ¾ was located, your family checked over you once more, ensuring you had more than enough money to keep yourself comfortable on the train ride there. The stares from the other European families were intense, most of them intrigued and a few stared in utter disgust.

A young boy with platinum hair that rivalled even the whitest of white silk, scoffed at her green Ankara fabric dress and the matching fabric her family had, each styled differently to showcase each member’s different style. His eyes looked them up and down in disgust, a scowl pulling on his pale, thin lips.

He had opened his mouth to make a remark, but Roseline quickly stepped in and stared up at him with a menacing look.

She muttered an incantation that she had learned from a dream she had from an ancestor the night before her sister would leave for Hogwarts, making the boy drop to the ground. The boy, who she had found out later was Lucius Malfoy, writhed in pain as her little sister-maintained eye contact.

When her parents saw what was happening, they quickly made Roseline brake eye contact. Watching as Lucius Malfoy ran from the Zabini sisters, terror on his face. Her parents quickly kissed their child goodbye and rushed off with Roseline in the arms, scolding her as they did.

Her braided hair swayed behind her as the found an empty compartment on the train and quickly entered it. The sliding door clicked as she sat down with a sigh, she was already missing her parents and her sister. She played with her necklace that held a picture of Oshun, a Yoruba Goddess she had a strange connection to. It was almost as if Oshun was guiding her on this journey.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a tall, slender boy that had also dressed in royal purple robes came in her compartment. He smiled at her as she stared back at him bewildered. She had accepted that she wouldn’t let anyone stop her on her path onto making her ancestors proud of her. But as the boy held out a hand to her, she smiled and shook his hand.

“My name’s Kingsley Shacklebolt, Yours?”

She smiled confidently and said with pride, a name that The Wizarding World would never forget.

“Zabini. Ruth Bèl Zabini.”

**Author's Note:**

> What y'all think?
> 
> Translations:
> 
> bèl fi mwen an - my beautiful girl
> 
> Cheri - Dear 
> 
> Lanmou - love
> 
> Sè - Sister
> 
> Manman - Mother


End file.
